


Human Emotion

by dreabean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Wincest - Freeform, back massages, body fetish (back), body fetish (ears), coming without being touched, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds Castiel to be more human than he originally thought.  Together they find a way to keep Dean on the path of saying no.  But there are consequences to every action, and a condition to every emotion. Sam/Dean, Sam/Castiel, Sam/Cas/Dean</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Up to 5.17 "99 Problems" though goes heavily AU from there.
> 
> Thanks to mistyzeo, blackcathollow, rayn_firehawk, thebunnybag and Boyfriend. :D

Human Emotion

*

The silence was heavy in the too-small motel room. Dean was cleaning his guns on the bed he'd claimed, ignoring the other two people in the room. Sam was clicking away on his lap top, studiously taking notes in the yellow legal pad he had balanced precariously on one knee. Castiel was watching them both through narrowed eyes.

"You two are disappointed," he said, unnecessarily loud in the quiet space.

Sam looked up, startled, but not disagreeing. Dean didn't stop what he was doing, but he grunted. Castiel couldn't decipher the emotion behind it. That was often case, but it seemed particularly difficult in that moment.

"Not with you," Sam finally said faintly. "If God doesn't want to be found, then there is nothing we can do."

It was a cold comfort but Castiel took it willingly.

"I will never drink again," he vowed honestly. He'd spent enough time with the Winchesters that he was slowly picking up their human traits; but lying wasn't one of them. Would probably never be one of them. "I don't like the headache."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before they both began laughing. The Angel gave them a perplexed look. "We'll get you some aspirin," Sam said, still chuckling. "It should help."

Touching his forehead with two fingers, Castiel probed the tight skin at his temple. "Pain is a human condition," he murmured mostly to himself.

"Welcome to our world," Sam said dryly, sharing another look with his brother.

Castiel settled back in the chair he was sitting in. He still had trouble leaning his back against anything.

Conceptually he knew his wings were immaterial in his human host, but not feeling them against his skin was hard to bear. Even so, as he rested, he inwardly winced as the rough cotton of the dress shirt he wore ground against the smooth skin of his back. That, more than anything else, was convincing him of his humanity. If he was honest with himself—and he was— then the strange feelings he found crashing over him on a daily basis were terrifying. They frightened him like nothing else ever had, not even their inability to find God. Everything ached: humanity was heavy on his shoulders, dragging down his once pristine wings. His joints were swollen, sore from use, everything was wrong. He defected, and he was being slowly thrown out of Heaven for his troubles.

And his loyalty.

"Cas " The tone told him that Dean had been trying to get his attention for a while and was slowly losing his already-small patience. Castiel looked up, focusing tired eyes on Dean. Whatever Dean was going to say died in his mouth and concern replaced irritation. "Are you all right?" he asked instead, and Castiel felt warmth well up in his stomach at it.

"My head hurts," he said shortly, because telling him the real reason why he looked the way he did would take more time then they could afford. Dean was already dancing on the edge of reason, knowing that Cas' loyalty to him rather than to God was causing the Angel such pain might throw him over the wrong side. It wasn't really a lie anyway, his head did hurt.

Deception is a human construction.

Vaguely Castiel could remember a phrase that Lucifer had once said before he'd fallen, 'a lie of omission is still a lie.' Semantics made his headache worse.

"I'll get that aspirin," Dean said after a minute. Sam nodded, and got up too, going into the adjoining bathroom. As Dean was searching in his bedspread for the keys to the Impala, Sam returned with a glass of mostly cold water, giving it to the Angel and taking a seat beside him.

"Drink that, it might help," he said softly, keeping his voice low enough that while Castiel didn't have to strain to hear, it was below the register of the stabbing pain at his temples. "Keeping you hydrated will make the headache hurt less."

Trusting Sam, Cas drank the glass in one long sip, tilting his head back to avoid spilling. He didn't notice the way Sam's eyes followed the motion as he drank; the way he swallowed in tandem.

The headache however, did diminish ever so slightly and at a loss, Castiel handed back the glass. "Thank you," he said as an afterthought.

"More?" Sam offered, half standing, half sitting. Dean jerked his head at the door and his brother waved at him with a distracted hand. Cas shook his head. "Get comfortable," he said as Dean left. "Lay down for a while."

"Angel's don't need sleep," Castiel protested, but allowed Sam to take off the tan trench coat and red tie. Manhandling the Angel towards the bed was surprisingly easy, Cas didn't even try to fend off Sam's movements. "Sam, I'm fine," he insisted but the youngest Winchester ignored him. It was like, Cas realized, he had told Anna: Sam was his friend. This was what friends did.

They took care of each other.

Castiel stopped even the half-hearted protests and allowed Sam to lead him to the bed. "Take your shoes off and get comfortable," Sam said, and Castiel did as he bid after a moment. Sam disappeared back into the bathroom and Cas could vaguely hear water running before he came out again. Instead of a glass of water, Sam returned with a wet face-cloth. It wasn't dripping but there was still water running down the slope of his wrist. "Here," he said. "Close your eyes."

"You really don't have to do this," Cas murmured, closing his aching eyes. "I'll be fine. I'm an Angel of the Lord."

Sam chuckled and the huff of air danced across Castiel's cheek. "This will help," Sam insisted. The cold compress went over his eyes, and the chill sank into his skin almost immediately. The dry, gritty ache was soothed, and he sank into the bed with a long, slow sigh. "Get some rest," Sam murmured near his ear, but Castiel didn't respond. It was too much effort. Sloth is a human – he cut the thought off and ruthlessly turned his brain off. He was done.

*

When Dean got to the ExtraMart that was about a mile away from their motel,   
he sat in his car for a long moment, Metallica playing quietly in the background. It had been hard to hear that his amulet was useless - even worse to realize he truly was a servant of God. And to see Castiel so broken... it was another weight to carry. Another reason to tip the scale in Michael's favor.

He finally got out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than strictly necessary. The girl behind the counter of the ExtraMart was pretty in a simple way:; her brown hair was long and straight and her smile was sweet. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked brightly. "Just give me something to do."

"Do you carry aspirin?"

There must have been something in his voice because her face, which had been teasing, softened entirely into concern and she pointed around the edge of her counter. "Just there." Dean followed her finger and selected a bottle of aspirin that was relatively cheap. He had to go to a bar soon and hustle up some cash, otherwise they might run out, with three people to feed now that Castiel seemed to be eating some.

"Is everything okay?" the girl asked cautiously.

Dean looked up and realized he'd been lost in thought, staring down at the bottle he was holding. "Yeah," he said lightly. "Just a lot on my mind." Even to his own ears, the lie sounded lame. He was usually much better at this than he had been in the past few days. The girl seemed to know it too. "Thanks," he murmured. "It's just been a long... well, year." He offered her a somewhat genuine smile. "Thanks for asking though." He left her the change and left.

Castiel was waiting.

*

Castiel didn't snore, but it was almost like his human body couldn't get enough oxygen, his breaths were so deep. Sam kept up the illusion that he was researching...something...but he was keeping a close eye on the sleeping Angel. If he even was an Angel anymore.

There wasn't anything he could do about finding God, if a deity didn't want to be found then Sam logically knew there was nothing to be done. Castiel breathed in especially deeply and Sam's eyes shot to him. The Angel's eyes opened and he groaned, flinging one arm over his face.

Mentally Sam smacked himself in the forehead. He certainly wasn't above noticing Castiel's physical charms, but he was fairly certain that lusting over an Angel of the Lord was a sin. In his line of work, it paid to read the Bible.

 

Castiel took that moment to groan again, rubbing both his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I," he said definitively, his voice husky, "am never drinking again."

Sam chuckled. "You said that already. Dean should be back soon with some aspirin."

Castiel nodded, then with a bitter twist of his mouth, looked like he regretted the motion. "People do this for fun?" he asked, hoping that breathing very deeply would settle the rolling in his stomach.

"Well," Sam said diplomatically, "people don't generally drink entire liquor stores."  
"I'm not likely to do it again." Cas groaned for a third time and Sam recognized the sound. He was just in time with getting the waste basket to Cas before the contents of his belly hit the floor. He retched for an obscenely long time before he finally stopped. Sam immediately removed the bin before the smell could pervade the room and possibly cause a relapse. "How do you feel now?" Sam asked quietly.

"Like I have vomit up my nose," Cas answered meditatively. Sam recoiled by habit, making a disgusted face. Seeing the expression, Cas winced. "Sorry."

"Into the shower with you," Sam said decisively. "That will help." When Cas showed no signs of moving, Sam ventured, "...do you need some help?"

"I keep telling my arms to move but they're not listening."

"I'll take that as a yes." Sam reached for the buttons on the white shirt Castiel was still wearing, but hesitating on the top one. Castiel nodded once and let his eyes slide shut. Sam made quick work of the shirt, pulling the Angel up and helping him shrug out of it.

There were black slashes, like ink, scored across his shoulders. Wing marks, Sam realized with a shock. He brushed his fingers over the left one, ever so gently and Castiel's body seized and shivered. The Angel's head dropped down onto Sam's shoulder with a muffled groan.

The noise startled Sam, but Cas hadn't sounded like he was in pain. He sounded... aroused. "S-Sorry," Castiel murmured, his voice choked. "I'm still not used to not having them." And maybe a little embarrassed.

"Let's get you into the shower," Sam said softly.

With a shuddering breath, Castiel shook his head against the warmth of Sam's neck. "Moving hurts," he murmured.

"Here, I'll help." Sam lifted Castiel's arms and looped his arms around his neck. "Come on, stand with me." Castiel clung, moaning sharply at the suddenly vertical position. "You gonna hurl again?"

He could feel Cas' frown against his shoulder. "Hurl?" he asked, still managing to sound confused even through the ill.

"Throw up," Sam clarified, holding them still. "Because if you are, I'm letting you fall."

He could feel the smile too. "Not going to...... hurl. Just hold on." Castiel tightened his grip. "The room is moving."

"No, Cas. That's your head." Sam waited for a long few minutes before he tried again. "Okay. Ready to try again?" Cas nodded. They managed a shuffling walk to the bathroom. Once Castiel was settled on the closed toilet seat, Sam turned to him. "How do you like your shower?"

His head hanging, Castiel still managed a small smile. "Never had one."

Sam chuckled. "Sorry. Hot, warm, lukewarm, or cold."

There was a long pause. "Thinking hurts," the Angel said wonderingly. "Actually. Everything hurts."

"Sorry," Sam said, grinning. "We'll go with lukewarm." Sam reached around Cas to turn on the water. "Can you get your pants?"

Sam firmly turned around to adjust the temperature while Cas fumbled with his slacks. "I am sorry, Sam."

His head was still in the shower; making sure it wasn't too hot or cold. "What are you sorry for?" Sam asked, neatly avoiding the spray. "Don't you apologize. It's fine." He turned back around to see Castiel sitting there naked. "Whoa."

"Does my nudity bother you, Sam?" Castiel asked, his voice confused.

"Uh, n-no. Here, get in." He offered his hand to the fallen Angel who immediately took it.

Only then Castiel stumbled against him, pressing a very male part of his anatomy against Sam's hip. Sam closed his eyes. Lusting after an Angel of the Lord was just as much of a sin as it was an hour before. "I'd apologize but you told me not to."

"Into the shower, Cas." Sam went to leave the minute the Angel was settled but Cas  
stumbled. Closing his eyes again, Sam leaned his forehead on the door jamb. "Do you want me to stay?" he offered, hoping the sound of the water would drown out the noise of his banging forehead.

"No," was the muffled reply. "The concept of modern technology is confusing but manageable."

Thanking every God known to man, Sam said, "okay. Let me know when you're done. I'll be..." in my bunk... "out there."

There was no verbal response but another heartfelt moan.

Not a pained moan, either.

By the time Dean got back, Sam's dick was a hard ridge in his jeans. "Where's Cas?"  
Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, shower."  
Dean frowned. "Shower?"

"Yeah. Uh, he threw up earlier, so he's..." Sam twisted his lips in a parody of a smile. "He's not..."

His brother held up a hand. "Yeah. I get it."

Cas chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. In a towel. Only a towel.

Both Sam and Dean averted their eyes. It was fine when it was them; but when it was an Angel...

Especially an Angel Sam was currently lusting after.

His dick which hadn't sat back down yet, stood up a little more and Sam winced. He covered his face with one hand. "Cas. Your clothes. Where are they?"

"They are dirty." Castiel blinked. "It seemed ridiculous to spend ten minutes getting clean only to put on previously dirty clothing. Or am I wrong?"

"We'll... find you other clothes," Sam said tiredly.

Cas nodded. "Thank you, Sam. You were right, the shower made me feel much better."

Dean took that moment to toss Cas the aspirin. "Think fast."

The Angel missed. By a long shot. "I cannot think fast and hold the towel, Dean."

There was no way Sam could stand up. None at all. "Uh, I think Dean's jeans will fit you but not his shirts. My shirts would be okay, I think."

"I do not mean to put you out of clothes."

Feeling pained, Sam shrugged. "It's fine. We can get you a few sets of your own."

There was an expression on Castiel's face. It had to be...... the first time he'd ever seen the Angel look bashful. "You don't... it isn't necessary."

Dean crossed his arms. "Aren't you staying?"

The bewildered look deepened. "You... want me to?"

The brothers exchanged a look. "Of course we do," Sam said.

"We wouldn't have asked otherwise," Dean grunted.

His erection had waned during Castiel's bout of insecurity so Sam stood. "Let's get you some clothes." He smiled a little, looking his eyes some point by Cas' shoulder. "You must be cold."

"I'm an Angel of the Lord. I don't get cold."

Pride is a human condition.

He was cold. Freezing even. He was still damp from the shower and it was humid enough that Dean had the AC on. Castiel suppressed a shiver. Then a shirt hit him in the face. "Try that on. You'll have to do without underwear until we can get you some," Sam said, handing him jeans. "Go change."

*

The bathroom was blessedly still warm and Castiel changed hurriedly. There was so much that was new to him. Temperature, sensation - Sam's hands on the remainder of his wings - hunger. More than one kind.

Lust is a loved human emotion.

Castiel leaned his forehead on the mirror. This was getting complicated.

Very complicated.

*

Dean left to get Castiel some clothes, armed with the sizes from his filthy set. Sam had offered, practically begged, but Dean had insisted. "I need to put my head on straight, man," he'd said. Things had been strange and were progressively getting stranger.

Cas had yet to come out of the bathroom. "Uh, hey Cas?" Sam called. There was a muffled response. "Did you fall in? Or something?"

The door opened. "No. I'm sorry. I was... thinking."

Sam grinned, seeing the uncomfortable look on Castiel's face. "About falling in?" The grin widened when Castiel gave him a flat look. It was more expression than Sam had ever seen on the Angel's face. "Are you all right? Feeling okay?"

"The pills helped." He loitered in the door way. "Where's Dean? Again."

"Getting you clothes."

Castiel hesitantly walked over to the table that Sam sat at. "You two are doing too much for me."   
"Oh no, Cas..." Sam itched to run his fingers down Castiel's shoulders until he twitched.

He was out of the chair and around the table before he could stop himself.

"Is everything...?" Castiel began to ask but whatever he was seeing on his face made the words die before they began to live. "Sam? I'm..." he changed tactics again. "You must be very angry with me."

It was enough to stop Sam. "Huh?"

"After I pulled Dean from Hell I did not do much more than attempt to convince him you were going to be evil and that you deserved to be killed." Castiel averted his eyes and looked down. "And now you… take care of me. Like I wasn't as evil as the demons to you."

"Shut up, Cas," Sam murmured and dropped his hand down on his back. "You've more than made up for it now." With that, he brushed his fingertips against the wing marks. Castiel moaned low in his throat and arched his back against Sam's hand. His own hands clenched where they rested on the table.

"Sam " he gasped.

Sam didn't reply and brushed his fingers a little more firmly. Castiel's breathing hitched and he arched like a cat, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Sam lightened his touch again and the Angel squirmed in the seat, his eyes falling closed. "Do you miss your wings?" Sam asked contemplatively, as he rubbed small concentric circles around the area they should have been.

"More than anything," Castiel whispered. "I know they are there, but in this Vessel they are the only symbols of my Divinity."

He sounded so upset that Sam paused, his fingers hovering over Castiel's back. "Do you want me to stop touching them?"

Castiel breathed out sharply. "Oh God no," he breathed. "Don't. It's...... the only good reminder of their absence I've had." Hesitantly Sam began again, trying to lower the sexual tone he'd began, giving the pained Angel a much more clinical back massage. Castiel hummed and dropped his head, allowing Sam access to the back of his neck.

"Where did you learn this?" he asked, muffled.

"College. It came in handy." Sam had taken a physical education course at Stanford, it turned out to be fun and helpful. Jess used to get migraines and the massages would make her feel better. As Sam hunted out the pressure points in Castiel's neck, the Angel slid forward to rest his head on his arms.

"I can see that."

The Angel had tension knots like Sam couldn't believe. Maybe the weight of wings he could no longer see or feel.

Sam worked his way down Cas' back, manfully ignoring the low 'ah-ah-ah's' he got when he dug his thumbs into the Angel's wing Marks. He'd gotten most of the way down Castiel's lower back when Cas shifted very slightly. Sam thought at first he was trying to get more comfortable, so he pressed harder only to have Cas shift again.

Sam looked down and noticed with a shock that Cas was...... hard. Bulging against his jeans, shifting uncomfortably, hard. He worried at his bottom lip, before he trailed his fingers lightly over the wing marks.

The noise Castiel made blew all other previous groans out of the water. He shifted again, spreading his legs wider. Sam did again, scraping the backs of his nails across the edge of his shoulder blades.

Cas said something in a guttural language, deep and warm at the back of his throat. Sam paused again, fingers resting over where he knew the marks were. "What was that, Cas?"

His head didn't move but Sam could see the tips of the Angel's ears turn red. "Enochian."

Sam considered that for a moment before continuing to press his fingers into his back. "Oh. What did it mean?"

That made Castiel blush harder. "Nothing I can repeat in respectable company." He was almost constantly twitching with the effort to not move and Sam felt pleased.

"Um, I'm not respectable company, Cas," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't worry about offending me."

Castiel's breathing was getting erratic, and Sam lightened up his touch. "You're not hurting me," he said hesitantly. "It was not an expression of pain."

"So I'm not... I wasn't sure," Sam lied with a small smile. "Okay then." He scraped his nails again, only harder and straight down. Jess had liked it.

With a gasp, Castiel's spine went ramrod straight and the oddly arousing guttural language exploded from him. Sam blinked. "That sounded like pain Cas," he said, for the first time uncertain in his seduction plan. He took in the flushed and panting Vessel of an Angel of the Lord. His legs were wide, his hands clenching on his thighs, a damp spot on the crotch   
of the jeans he was wearing.

"It. Wasn't." Through the grating tone of the aroused, Sam could also hear desperation and confusion.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked cautiously.

"No."

That was definitive. Sam placed his palms on Cas' back. His entire body shuddered and Sam stroked the warmth of his hands across the area he'd just abused. The Angel's entire body undulated against him.

He began drawing designs across the nearly visible marks. And they were, raised against the fabric of the t-shirt. He traced them, and Castiel writhed in the seat, spreading his legs wider, shifting his hips against the air. His hands clung to the edge of the table and when Sam peeked a look at his face, the Angel's eyes were half closed and his face flushed. "Sam I don't understand " He was panting, unable to focus. "I am... I have never felt this way before." Sam paused again and Castiel dropped his head back and forced his eyes open. "Help me, Sam."

Swallowing to wet a suddenly dry throat, Sam pressed the fingers of one hand to the Angel Marks. Castiel's hips rolled on a low moan and Sam dropped his free hand on the almost painful looking bulge he found there.

Castiel froze for a second then the youngest Winchester squeezed. With a tortured shout that was more like a scream, the other man came, soaking his pants and writhing in the seat, gasping out something Sam couldn't understand. Sam let him ride it out, palming his covered dick until Cas had stopped twitching. He withdrew completely, giving the Marks one last swipe.

The Angel shivered. "I have never felt that way before." His voice was rough, and he twisted in the chair to look at Sam. "Why...?"

"Uh." Sam backed away a little hastily and sat on his bed, his cock throbbing. "I should think it was obvious Cas."

Though he was shaking, Castiel rose out of the chair. He stepped carefully up to Sam, sliding into the space between his legs. "Perhaps it was," he murmured. "And I believe this," he leaned down and with gentle fingers, tilted Sam's chin up and kissed him lightly on the mouth, "is customary as a thank you."

His hands were still on Sam's face so Sam pulled him down for another kiss, this one deeper, slanting his mouth over the Angels. When Cas broke for air; he murmured, "why did you not tell me?"

"Because I..."

Dean opened the door and with a sound that reminded Sam of wings, Cas had vanished into the bathroom and left Sam alone.

*

 

Castiel stared down at the soaking wet spot on his jeans with something akin to dismay. It was cooling, sticky, and a beautiful, amazing reminder of the moment he'd just experienced. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jimmy Novak was humming in complete pleasure. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the things his vessel previously needed. The never ceasing hunger, the erections, hunger pains, migraines, the urge to drink, the need for human contact.

While Jimmy had clearly been touched in an intimate way before, he was unable to access the vessels memories to re-feel them. Hesitantly, Castiel rested his warm, dry hand on the small bulge his flaccid penis left in the too tight jeans. Over-sensitive aftershocks tore through him and his knees buckled.

Now he understood why his brothers had fallen in Israel; the sensations were fantastic. And terrifying. The memory of Sam's hands on the Marks of the Angel was... titillating.

And he really needed out of the wet jeans. He shucked them and decided to have another shower. The stickiness was pervading down his legs. He adjusted the temperature to something a little warmer than when he'd cleaned off before and rinsed off quickly. Humans truly did have the most fascinating inventions.

He dried off just as soon as he got out, shrugging on the t-shirt. It was just long enough to cover everything it needed to - minus the disgusting jeans. Castiel debated on whether or not to simply vanish the mess away when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Cas, I've got some clean jeans that will fit you."

Sam.

"Uh. Come in?" He knew he was blushing.

Sam slipped in and handed him a pair of jeans. "Here."

He still looked kissable.

So Castiel pulled him forward by his shirt and kissed him gently. "Thank you, Sam Winchester."

"For what?" He was smiling, a confused little smile with a small frown wrinkling his forehead.

"The jeans."

The smile crinkled up into a genuine grin. "You're welcome." He backed out of the bathroom and turned to face Dean.

Who was giving him a strange look. "Dude," he said. "What the hell was that?"

Sam blinked. "What the hell was what?"

Dean gestured. "That. Between you and Cas."

"Nothing," Sam said, snorting, rubbing the back of his neck. "We bonded."

"Bonded," Dean repeated. "Dude. You are so gay."

Ignoring the homoerotic kissing and groping that had been going barely an hour before, Sam had always been a little gay. He shrugged knowing how much Dean hated the reaction. He wouldn't take much else seriously though. "He was upset."

Dean gave him a flat look and Sam hid a grin, it looked exactly like Castiel's. "Upset?" he repeated. "You two don't even like each other."

Sam shrugged again. "I thought so too." He pressed his lips together, still tasting Castiel's kiss. He wet them hesitantly, wondering if Dean could see it. "He apologized, actually. For last year."

If he was surprised, Dean didn't show it. "Wondering when he'd get around to that," he commented. "He mentioned it to me a few weeks ago."

His teeth clinked together on a reply. "Oh," Sam finally managed to say. "So you knew."

"That he was upset at the thought of you hating him? Yeah." Sam stared and Dean's expression got a little hunted. "What?"

"Cas talked to you... about feelings?" Sam said skeptically. "I find that a little hard to believe."

His brother shrugged. "Who else was he going to talk to?"

Cas took that moment to open the bathroom door, and Sam shelved whatever he was going to say. The Angel scratched the back of his neck. "Thank you, Dean. Sam. I truly appreciate everything you have done for me today."

His eyes locked on Sam's and though his face never changed, Sam could see the smile in the Angel's eyes.

Oh. Yeah.

That too.

Sam returned the smile and felt inexorably pleased when the Angel blushed and looked away.

*

Cas pulled Sam around the corner when he stepped out of the library. The Angel swallowed Sam's surprised cry with his lips. He pressed Sam's much larger body into the brick wall as he kissed him.

"It has come to my attention," Castiel murmured, pressing small kisses at the corner of Sam's mouth, "that after all you did for me yesterday, I never reciprocated."

Sam gasped against his lips, and when Castiel lined up their hips and pressed. "Cas "

"I asked Dean what the proper course of action would be in a situation like this. He was appalled I'd left you hanging." He peppered his statement with soft kisses, barely pulling away long enough to breathe.

Sam disengaged. "Uh. You told Dean?"

"No, not by name." He leaned in for another kiss.

He submitted for a minute before he pulled away again. "Cas. Why are you doing this?"

"I should think that would be obvious." Castiel said. "Dean may be my charge but you are my friend. I enjoyed what happened between us and I wish to continue what we started. Though I do admit my knowledge on his subject is limited." Their hips were still locked together and Castiel leaned in a little more. "But Dean told me to follow this body's instincts."

Sam stared at him for a second before he tilted up Cas' jaw and kissed him, slanting their mouths together. Castiel moaned in relief and Sam laughed softly against his skin. "Just don't tell Dean," he murmured. "Unless you want to explain it to him."

"No," the Angel said between kisses, "not particularly."

Sam could feel the Angel's erection hot against his thigh, so he spread Castiel's legs with one of his own and pressed up. Cas bucked and moaned, grinding down. "This was supposed to be about you," he panted.

Sam flashed him a grin. "It is. I like seeing that," he pressed up again and Cas' eyes rolled back, "on your face."

Castiel blushed a brilliant red and kissed Sam again, tangling their tongues.  
He rubbed his hips against Sam's, and the Winchester boy reciprocated and set the rhythm. "Sam," Cas gasped. "I did not enjoy the wet sensation in these pants before, I will not enjoy it now."

"So poof us back to the room," Sam growled, "because it's not..." He was cut off as the world reformed around them and Castiel stumbled them to the bed. The Angel settled himself over Sam's lap. Sam smiled and caught his breath at the shy response he got back. "Here," he said softly. "Let me." He rolled them over and dropped his hands to Castiel's jeans.

Castiel lifted his hips and helped slide them down his legs. Once they were discarded, Castiel immediately went for Sam's own pants. They settled together; all heat and smooth skin and both gasped. "This is much better," Castiel breathed. "Much more preferable."

Anything else was lost in the push and grind of the hard flesh between them. Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to the column of Castiel's throat, biting down sharply when the Angel's fingers slipped from his waist to dig into his ass. Cas arched at the bite and Sam set about nipping and sucking, relishing the squirming. He left a particularly vicious red mark just under the curve of Castiel's jaw.

Pressure grew, and with a muffled shout of his name, Castiel came apart under Sam. The sudden slickness soaked him and Sam followed soon after. When it was over, Sam slid off to one side and leaned up on his elbow to look at Cas. The Angel rolled over to look back. He twitched his hand and the mess between them vanished completely. "Handy," Sam murmured. He raised one hand and let it rest on Castiel's chest. "Can I ask you something?"

The gentle smile slipped off Castiel's face. "Uh. Isn't that generally a bad thing after sex?"

Sam grinned and Castiel relaxed. "I just wanted you ask... did you really think I hated you?"

The relaxation disappeared and Sam slipped his hand over the rest of his chest and pulled Castiel close in a half-hug. "Guess that's my answer," Sam said. "Even though it's not true. I never hated you." Castiel blinked and Sam was once again struck by how many expressions Cas had learned over the last few weeks. "I was jealous of you for a long time."

"You- you were?" Hesitantly Castiel slid his hand along Sam's arm to rest it on his hip.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I hated that you were spending all that time with Dean, while I was the Winchester pariah." Castiel's fingers tightened briefly. "I guess it really hasn't changed much," Sam said softly. "But, I'm dealing."

Castiel blinked and opened his mouth but all that came to mind was his name. "Sam..."

Sam smiled briefly. "No less that I deserve, right?" The smile turned pained and Sam slid out from under Castiel's hand and was halfway to the bathroom before   
Cas realized he should go after him. The bathroom door closed before he could untangle himself from the covers. It was paining him to use the Power he'd been barred from since choosing sides.

The disappearing act wrenched his body but he did manage to appear between Sam and the shower. Sam stared and Castiel realized he stood before Sam in nothing more than one of Sam's t-shirts. Sam opened his mouth but Castiel had been watching humans make fools of themselves for a millennia. Castiel took one shaky step forward and pulled Sam into a kiss.

He framed Sam's face with his hands and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue across Sam's lower lip and Sam opened his mouth on a gasp. They stood there for a long time simply kissing. Though Jimmy Novak's body began to react, Cas ignored it and continued to try and kiss Sam's insecurities away. When his legs were starting to shake and he was beginning to get light headed, he finally pulled away.

They were both panting.

"Now you listen here Samuel Winchester," Castiel growled, "I will not hear of what you deserve, not from your lips. I have watched human make mistakes for eons and trust me," he kissed the corner of Sam's mouth, "you have already been forgiven."

Sam's lips turned up in a small, sad smile. "Maybe by you. Maybe by the God we can't find. But not by Dean." He gave Castiel one last kiss. "Dean will be back soon, we should get dressed."

The Angel nodded and opened the door only to be brought up short by the sight of Dean, his arm raised to knock on the bathroom door. The air shimmered and both Castiel's and Sam's jeans appeared on them.

Dean had to catch him when his knees buckled. "Okay," Dean said carefully. "Someone is going to have to explain something." He gave Sam a tight lipped glare. "Now."

*

"I am having sex with your brother," Castiel said clearly, ignoring the exasperated huff from Sam. "Though," he clarified, "as we have not had actual intercourse, I am unsure what to call it."

"You," Dean said, turning to Sam, changed his mind, turned to Cas. "You " Changed his mind again. "I'm confused. Cas... aren't you an Angel?"

"I was once," Cas murmured, and Sam curbed the impulse to pull him close. "Regardless of what I am, I do have a human vessel, Dean. It functions the same way your body does."

Sam snorted and Castiel set him a sharp if not fond look. Dean lurched to his feet. "That " Both his Angel and his brother exchanged a look before turning their eyes back to him. "Oh no. You two don't do the look thing. When the Hell did this happen?"  
Sam looked down and Castiel drew on the very last of his Angel reserves to school his features and draw himself up. "About the time you refused to forgive Sam for making a mistake." Dean's jaw set but Castiel plowed on. "And when you began ignoring me when my powers waned." Dean shook his head, looking panicked. "Do not," Castiel barked, the room darkening around him. "I am having sex with Sam. Deal with it "

He turned on his heel and promptly collapsed into Sam's arms. "No more Angel powers, Cas," Sam murmured. "Not if it hurts you."

Cas leaned against the solid bulk of Sam and let exhaustion take him. "I'll be fine, Angels don't need sleep."

But Sam hushed him and settled him on the bed. "Try anyway." He laid a gentle kiss at the corner of Castiel's mouth and pulled the blanket up. "Dean and I will let you rest."

When Sam turned back around he had his serious face on. He grabbed Dean by the wrist and pulled him outside. "Okay," he said firmly as the door closed. "I am so unbelievably sick of your constant punishment. We agreed to hunt together again, you asked for me to come back. But you know what? I'm still being shut out, and maybe I deserve it - after all, I started the fucking apocalypse But stop punishing Cas."

Dean manfully ignored most of the rant and latched on to, "You chose a demon over me, Sam " He said, his voice low. "Now I've been trying but you aren't making it easy."

Sam's face fell completely, shutting down. "Yeah, Dean," he said quietly. "I chose a demon. Nothing will excuse that. But Dean... you chose an Angel over me first." His throat closed around any other words, unable speak around the emotion choking him. He was starting to feel as though he would never make amends with his brother. He avoided Dean's gaze, fearing he'd see the tears in his own eyes. Dean had always made tears sound like a weakness, and Dean figured he was weak enough already.

Castiel was sleeping when he re-entered the room, and Sam spared a moment to gaze at him. He pulled off his shirt and climbed into the queen behind Cas. He pressed his forehead to the Angel's clothed shoulder. "Sam?" Cas said in a sleep rough voice. "What's wrong?"

 

He shook his head, keeping his face pressed tight against Castiel's arm. "Nothing. I'm fine."

There was a pause. "You're upset." Sam didn't answer, the grief welling in him was nearly as bad as when he'd been forced to kill Madison. Castiel rolled over and pulled Sam close. There had been very little of humanity that Castiel understood but comfort was definitely one of them. He rested his chin on the cap of Sam's hair and closed his eyes, offering what little comfort he could to Sam. He could feel the control slipping wildly out their grasp. Without Dean there, Sam would give in - without Sam, Dean would give in.

He didn't defect for this. Not for the shivers running through Sam.

Something had to give.

Wrath is a human construction.

*

 

Lips met with an angry clash of tongues and teeth, Castiel groaned helplessly into Dean's mouth. Dean took him over completely and Castiel had no choice but to give into the sensual assault. "Why?" growled Dean between kisses. "Why?"

"This is the only way," Castiel breathed, "to keep you with us."

The air shimmered and left both of them naked. Dean chuckled. "Handy."

Castiel gave him a brief smile. "For now." Whatever else he had to say was swallowed by Dean's kiss. Castiel kissed back, opening his mouth and –

And Sam sat up, waking Castiel.

"What's wrong?" The Angel asked immediately.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, thinking quickly. "Hey Cas," he said, laying back down beside Cas. He glanced at the empty bed beside them. Dean hadn't come back. "About Dean."

He could feel Cas tense. "What about him?"

"I think... I think I know how to keep him," Sam whispered.

Castiel turned in Sam's embrace. "How?"

"You."

The Angel blinked. "Me?"

Sam kissed him, gentle and light against his parted lips. "What about me?" Cas asked. With a look of fond amusement, Sam kissed him again, coaxing Castiel's lips open with his tongue. "Sam What does kissing me have to do with De–," he trailed off. "You wish for me to share my body with Dean?" He pulled away, looking troubled. "But what about you?"

"I'll be fine," Sam said quietly. "Dean doesn't need me. He needs his Angel."  
Sam made to get out of the bed but Castiel held fast. "I will not have sex with Dean. Not without you."

"Uh, you can't possibly be suggesting that I sleep with my own brother?" Sam said.

"Wouldn't doing anything with him without you be your idea of infidelity?" Cas asked. "I am with you." Castiel looked uncertain and let go of Sam's waist. "Aren't I?"

Sam pulled him close, crushing Castiel to his chest in a fierce, protective hug. "Yeah. Yeah Cas. You're with me."

"Then what do we do about Dean?" Cas whispered into Sam's chest.

"I guess we're seducing him together," Sam replied. "I'm already bound for Hell, right?"

Castiel kissed him instead of answering. He still had much to learn about humanity and the consequences of his slow destructive fall, but the speed with which his wings burned off was the least of his problems. He didn't have much of a clue about where he was bound or what to do next.

His father never condemned anyone for loving.

No one except Lucifer.

They'd been brothers too.

"How are we going to work out the logistics, Sam?" Castiel asked, after a few minutes of silence in an effort to derail his train of thought.

"Hm?"

The response was fuzzy with interrupted sleep and Castiel felt a foreign emotion in his chest. "When we seduce Dean. You are clearly more skilled in the art of what we're doing. How will it work with three?"

Sam turned his face into Cas' neck and sighed. "Someone will have to be in the middle." Cas could feel the small smile. "Probably you."

Lust pooled low in his belly. Lust that was his, and not something he could feel muted through Jimmy Novak's borrowed body. "Me? Why me?"

"It's you he wants," Sam reminded gently. "Cas... if you don't want to do this..."

"I defected for Dean. I will not baulk at this." Never mind that his defecting didn't result in his slow crumbling fall.

Learning to love Azazel's child had done that.

*

It was the slamming of the door that woke Sam and Castiel the second time, and they opened their eyes to a blazingly angry Dean. "So. The two of you share now?" he snapped.

Shaking off the last vestiges of true rest, Sam rolled his eyes. "We were saving the other bed for you, jerk."

Dean's eyes narrowed and there was no returned 'bitch' or anything that even looked normal in his face. "I think we should start getting two rooms now, what with your angel sex."

It was scathing enough that Sam's insides coiled and Castiel stiffened. "Dean, come on."

"No, you come on " He opened his mouth and Sam could see the chastisement and ensuing rant growing in Dean's eyes. Then he couldn't see anything at all, because suddenly Castiel was there, his mouth sealed over Dean's.

Dean made a surprised noise that Cas swallowed, and Sam was shocked to discover how erotic it was to watch Cas completely dominate his brothers mouth. It didn't look like Dean was kissing back but he wasn't stopping the Angel's efforts to coax a response out of him. Maybe the person in the middle was going to be Dean.

The idea terrified him and exhilarated him at the same time. He slipped off the bed and came up behind Cas, resting his hands against the angel wing marks. Castiel groaned against Dean's mouth and he reflexively placed his hands on the Angel's waist. Taking that as permission, Castiel pulled Dean closer.

They continued to kiss, and Sam began to brush his fingers over the wing marks. Cas' hips flexed against Dean's and Dean's fingers clutched suddenly in Castiel's t-shirt. The Angel tore his mouth from Dean's to gasp out, "Sam, if you do that, this will be over very quickly."

Sam grinned and laid a kiss on the side of Castiel's neck. "Sorry." He went back to rubbing lightly, with the palms of his hands. Castiel shivered pleasantly and re-caught Dean's mouth with his. "Dean," murmured Sam, "if you don't want to keep going, just say so. We'll forget this ever happened."

That seemed to spur Dean into action. He left go of the shirt to cup Castiel's face and honestly kissed him back, tilting their heads into a better position. Castiel moaned loudly into the kiss and pressed himself lengthwise against Dean.

For a split second, Sam felt a pang of...... something...... at the impassioned embrace. Until Cas clutched at his hand and tugged him closer. "Bed," the Once-Angel gasped. "Bed now."

 

Dean pulled away, looking nervous. "Cas...... I..."

But the Angel kissed him gently, halting his words. "No, Dean. I know no other way to show you how deep my devotion runs for you. Or how deep your brothers love for you is." Dean's jaw had softened and his entire body relaxed. "I may have already fallen Dean, so it means that I will be here to catch you."

This time, Dean kissed him.

The two of them stumbled to the bed. Sam withdrew, letting Castiel's fingers slip from his hand. He'd spent the entirety of his teenage years watching as women and men he'd had a vocal interest in turn to Dean instead. It stood to reason that Cas wasn't much different.

Castiel's hips were slowly rutting against Dean's, and for his part, Dean seemed to pick up on the marks on Cas' back. Dean was pulling the Angel's shirt off to have better access to the broad, muscled plane of skin while Cas began tugging at Dean's jeans. Sam fell back, lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, simply watching. It was a pretty picture.

His brother didn't want him, but he clearly wanted Cas.

He was getting ready to leave when Cas stood, shucking off his jeans and dropping them by Dean's. "I do not think so," he growled, invading Sam's space. "You belong in our bed." He tugged Sam closer by his belt loops. "Share with me."

He allowed himself to be led to the bed where Dean was watching with concerned wide eyes. Nerves were threatening to choke him, then Castiel kissed him. Just like the last several   
times, the world melted away and Sam managed to forget about his staring brother. As they kissed, Cas began to unbutton the shirt he was wearing, sliding it over his shoulders to pool at his feet. When the shirt finally fell to the floor, Cas started onto the pants.

Then Cas jerked, moaning into the kiss and Sam's eyes flew open and saw Dean scrape his fingers down Cas' back. "Fuck," Castiel grunted, jerking his hips into Sam's.

"We need to get him to say that again," Dean said with a filthy chuckle, his eyes on his brother.

And like that, the situation clicked, and Sam began to participate fully. He pulled the shirt the rest of the way off Castiel's shoulders, and deepened their kiss. Together, the three of them shuffle-walked to the bed, Sam and Castiel still kissing. Once Cas' knees hit the edge of the bed, Dean knelt behind him and lowered him down between the two brothers.

Sam pushed his knees apart as Dean cradled his upper body, gently rubbing the Marks. Sam looked up the lean line of Castiel's body to meet his brothers eyes. There was a wealth of information there; nerves, confusion, desire, but below it all, a burning, kindling hope. Sam   
dipped his head and looking all the while into Dean's green eyes, licked the entire length of Castiel's cock.

The Angel shouted, arching his hips, straining against Dean's grip. Sam held him down with an arm across his stomach, and Dean immobilized his hands.

He sucked only the tip into his mouth and rolled it around in his mouth with his tongue. Castiel gasped, shouting something in Enochian that neither brother could understand. "English, Cas," Sam could hear Dean murmur.

Cas whimpered but didn't speak again, too busy writhing against Sam as he slipped his lips slowly down the whole shaft. It had been a few years since he'd done this but he managed to bottom out after a few false starts. Brady had been an incredibly patient teacher.

He swallowed around Castiel's length just as Dean bit down on his neck and scraped blunt nails over the raised wing marks. The Angel in question bucked and writhed, screaming. He started out in Enochian, but as the word flow progressed he began whispering, "Please, please, please, Sam please..."

Sam pulled off to Castiel's moan of protest. "You want a turn?" he asked hoarsely of Dean.

The confusion had fled Dean's eyes leaving them burning with unbridled lust. "He'll recover," he growled.

Swallowing hard, Sam dipped his head down again and began licking small concentric circles around the rigid length, using both hands to still Castiel's hips. He groaned against the Angel's dick when Dean shifted on the mattress and caused it to rub against Sam's own unattended erection.

It was the groan that did it. Castiel blew apart beneath them, his intense orgasm taking all three of them by surprise. Sam's name was torn from his lips and he arched up, nearly choking Sam. Sam kept up light suction until Castiel's cock was soft and twitching. Only then did he pull off, cracking his jaw with a grin. "Did we break him?" He asked, slyly.  
Castiel lay there panting, unmoving, his skin shivering with the aftershocks. "We must have," Dean rumbled.   
He began kissing the side of the Angel's neck, soft, dry presses of his lips. His hands swept up and down, palming warmly over his erect nipples. Castiel twitched and opened his eyes.

"Your turn," Sam murmured, levering himself painfully off his knees. Both cracked and Dean winced.

"Y'okay, baby brother?" he asked, shifting the dead weight of Castiel to lie flat on his back, still blissed out.

"Mm-hmm," murmured Sam. "Just fine." He slid up on the bed on Castiel's other side.

He settled himself there, and was taken by surprise when Castiel pounced. The Angel rolled over onto Sam's lap, resting on all fours to kiss him. Dean made a noise halfway between a sigh and a whimper as Castiel ground down on Sam's dick.

"Pants," Castiel groaned, "off " With a shimmer, Sam's jeans were halfway across the room and on the table with his laptop. Hot skin slid together and Sam bucked up, wrapping one leg around Cas' waist.

His arms were trembling with effort, but Cas looked up and met Dean's burning eyes. "Fuck me," he said clearly.

Dean's breath exploded out of him and Sam gasped, thrusting up against Cas. "You...?" Dean whispered and Cas nodded once. Sam could feel the angel's cock fill up with blood again, trapped as it was between their bodies.

"Fuck me to keep you," Cas whispered. "Please Dean." His head dropped and Dean took no time to scramble around them on the bed, kneeling behind Castiel's raised ass. "Fuck me."

Sam leaned over the side of the bed and hunted through his duffle. There was lube in there somewhere. When he found it, he tossed it over to Dean who grunted in thanks. Dean grasped Castiel's hips in an effort to stop him from moving, and spread his legs obscenely.

The youngest brother shifted, raising his knees, and helping hold Castiel up. The Angel dropped to his elbows to kiss Sam as Dean stared reverently down at the two of them. Sam carded his fingers through Castiel's messy hair, making it worse and disentangling the gel there, letting the curls fall loose.

Castiel brushed his nose against Sam's cheek. "Remember," he whispered in Sam's ear, pressing a hot, opened mouth kiss against it before speaking again, "You are mine."

Sam gasped and arched up, brushing their erect cocks together. "I remember," he murmured.

Dean couldn't hear what they were whispering together but Cas was beginning to shake, so he laid a gentle kiss on the Angel's spine, right where it bowed down in a gentle curve. He shivered against Dean's mouth, caught between arching up and arching down. Dean peppered kisses down his spine, finally ending just before the smooth skin of Castiel's ass. The Angel froze, trembling finely.

He brushed his thumbs over the crack of his ass, slowly coaxing it open, caressing what he found there with his fingers. Castiel gasped and shuddered, resting his forehead on Sam's chest. Dean kept it simple, stroking lightly before he laid his lips against the hole. Another stream of Enochian spilled out of him, and he bit down on Sam's collarbone.

Sam gasped, clutching at Cas' hips. "God, you can't do that Cas."

He was shaking, but managed a small, self-satisfied grin. "Do what?" he asked with a purr, "bite you?" Sam opened his mouth but Cas bit him again, as Dean slid one spit slicked finger inside of him. "Fuck " he said again, and Sam grinned.

He was writhing against Sam with each twitch of Dean's finger, and Sam shifted to align their cocks so they slid together slickly. "Dean," Castiel said hoarsely. "I may be cut off from heaven, but I can promise you that you will not hurt me and if you don't hurry up and fuck me I will not be accountable for my actions."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam. Sam shrugged, and Dean found the lube from where he left it. He squeezed a dollop into one hand and slicked another finger up, shivering. "Are you sure, Cas?"  
"Will it keep you with us?" was the answer he got, and Dean paused long enough to make the Angel turn his head to look at him burningly over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Dean whispered. "You can keep me." He began working in another finger, to the sound of his Angel and his brother kissing. Dean kept getting distracted by them. Maybe it was the way Sam's larger hands cradled the back of Cas' neck, as they kissed, or the way the Angel's hips shifted with each time their mouths separated.

He added another finger, just in case, and Castiel cried out impatiently against Sam's lips. Dean grinned to himself and curled all three fingers up and touched the small button he found here.

Castiel's whole body seized as a burst of pure pleasure incinerated what was left of his reservations and his mind. "What was that?" he asked breathlessly a moment later.

"Prostate," chorused the Winchesters, sharing a smile.

"Do it again," Cas demanded, writhing up against Dean's hand.

"Do you one better," Dean promised and withdrew his fingers. Cas cried out again in protest and Sam caught his mouth with his, silencing any further words.

Dean snagged the lube again and coated himself even more liberally. "Ready, Cas?" he asked gently and slowly the Angel nodded against Sam's chest.

Cas was jarred at Dean's first slide into him. "Relax," soothed Sam, rubbing up and down his back. He shifted once, then went boneless and with a shout of surprise, Dean slid home. They held their frozen tableau for a long, drawn-out moment, the room filling with their harsh breathing.

Then: "Dean, please. Move."

That seemed to spur them all into motion. Sam spread his knees which cradled Cas between them; pressing them groin to groin. Dean began to piston his hips, fucking down into Castiel's willing body. The Angel's erect and neglected cock rubbed against Sam's and Cas began moaning against Sam's neck.  
"Dean," groaned Cas. "Please... I... please."

Dean got the message.

He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting Cas' prostate with each bottom out. He reached around and grasped Castiel's dick, catching Sam's with it and jacking them together.

Sam's eyes flew to his brothers. Dean's face was set in intense concentration but when he felt Sam's eyes on him, he looked up. His held a question, and Dean gave him an answer. "Yeah, Sammy," Dean said. He meant 'I love you'. He meant 'I forgive you.' He meant 'Me too.'

And Sam came.

When Sam went, so did Cas, which set off Dean. It was over quickly and there was nothing glorious about it. Castiel collapsed on Sam and Dean managed to roll to the side.

In front of Dean's eyes the black Marks, the wings he'd been slowly losing, burned completely away, leaving his skin clean and without blemish. "Cas..." whispered Dean.

The not-Angel shook his head where it rested against Sam's neck. Sam rolled them to one side, sandwiching Cas. "I said I would give anything to keep you," Castiel whispered brokenly. "So I did."

Dean and Sam curled around him as he cried.

It had always been about Dean.

*

 

With a sound like flapping wings, Castiel opened his eyes to see Zachariah standing over the bed, the full force of his disapproval shining down on them. "Glad to see you awake, Castiel," he snarked. "I've been here for five minutes. Time was you would have woken up the minute I was in the room. You'd never have been sleeping in the first place, of course, but that's not the point."

Too tired to care, Castiel closed his eyes. "What do you want, Zachariah?" he asked wearily.

"Oh it's not what I want," Zachariah said, chortling. "It's what you want." He held out a hand and a vial shaped like an hourglass hung off his steady fingers.

Grace.

Castiel's entire being ached to be one with the Power of God again, and he choked on a desperate sob. "Where did you get that?" he asked, his eyes filling with yet more tears  
.

"I gathered it, piece by piece. It's been falling off of you in drips and drops. It was only a matter of finding it." The hard lines of Zachariah's face softened ever so slightly. "Did you accomplish what you set out to, my brother?"

Castiel tore his eyes away from his Grace to look at Sam and Dean. They slept peacefully, their fingers linked over Castiel's lap. "Yes," he finally whispered.

"Then come back, Castiel. Take your Grace and return to the Fold." He held out the vial. "Being human will kill you, Castiel. One day soon Jimmy Novak will force his way out of you. One body cannot contain two souls. Come home."

Feeling torn in two, Castiel could still feel the impression of a rueful smile hiding in the place where Jimmy Novak resided. Eyes closing, Castiel nodded. "Allow me to say good-bye," he whispered.

"Catch." As Zachariah vanished and Grace enveloped him, he could hear his brothers voice on the air. "You can only wake one, Castiel. Choose wisely."

When the light faded, Castiel turned back and looked down at the sleeping brothers. The empty spot between them smoothed out, erasing the impression of Cas' body as though it had never been there. "Samuel," he said clearly, dropping a hand down onto Sam's shoulder.

Sam opened his eyes slowly. He stretched languorously for a minute before realizing that Castiel was wearing Jimmy Novak's old clothes. Clothes that had been destroyed. "Cas," he whispered, dread curling low in his belly.

"I am truly sorry, Samuel," Castiel said, no longer able to whisper, power layered behind his voice. "There was little choice."

And the shadow of great wings stretched out on the wall behind him. "Oh Cas," breathed Sam. "Oh no..."

"I must go," Castiel said, pulling his hand away from the warm skin of Sam's bare shoulder. "Tell Dean goodbye for me. Keep him on the path, for I will not be returning."

Sam snatched at his hand and pulled by Castiel didn't budge. "You can't say goodbye yourself?"

Castiel's eyes closed briefly. "No. Dean would never let me leave."

"What makes you think I will?" Sam challenged, tightening his grip.

Castiel could remember how to smile, even remembered doing it, but couldn't bring himself to do so anymore. "Because you're the rational brother," he said slowly. "Let me go, Samuel."

Stung, Sam did so. "You're already gone," he whispered blankly.

Inclining his head in brief acknowledgment of the truth, Castiel began backing away from the bed where he'd left Sam and Dean. "Goodbye, Samuel Winchester." He turned but was surprised to see Sam scramble off the bed, still naked, and cut him off.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. "Kiss me," Sam begged. "Just one last time." He reached out, aborted the motion, making a fist. "Please."  
Castiel could see himself reflected in Sam's eyes. "We both know I can't Sam," he said. Even though he felt like he was breaking, there was nothing he could do to show Sam how he felt, except by using his name.

"Cas, please I... I love–," The shadow of Castiel's wings darkened dangerously, pulling all the shadows from the corners, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Do not tell me " thundered Castiel. "Forget me, Sam."

The sound of flapping wings filled the room and when Sam blinked away the after images, Cas was gone.

Sam broke.

*

Dean found Sam sitting at the foot of the bed, naked, freezing and staring off into space. Briefly he worried that the silence, the stiff posture and tear tracks was Sam's version of the 'my-brother-touched-me-during-sex' freak out.

Until he noticed that Castiel was no longer in the room with them. "Sam?" he whispered, sitting up in the bed. "Are you... all right?"

"Peachy."

Dean cringed at the dead tone and he climbed slowly out of the warmth of the covers to crouch in front of his brother. "Where's Cas?" he asked next, figuring it was the safest topic they had left.

Sam sniffed once. "Gone," he whispered.

"He walked out?" Dean found that hard to believe. Castiel had devoted everything to them, the likelihood that he'd just up and left them was slim to none.

"No." Sam's voice was small. "He went back to Heaven."

Oh. Oh no. Oh sweet zombie Jesus no. He reacted without thought, reaching out and clasping Sam behind the head, pulling him into his arms. Sam's shoulders hitched once, twice, and then he was sobbing, the kind of crying that exhausts you and cleanses you. True grief in a Winchester was rare, but Sam could feel it pressing at the already fragile seams of his soul. Dean's hold tightened almost painfully and Sam buried his face in the side of Dean's neck.

He was ten years old again and waking from a nightmare.

His fingers dug into Dean's hip and shoulder and he let himself cry. He didn't mention it when he felt Dean's answering tears.

They cried together for what seemed like ages, crying like they hadn't cried for many years.

Finally, tears not yet dry on his over hot and tight face, Dean tugged Sam up and climbed into bed with him, pulling the covers up and tucking in his brother.

The pillows still smelled like Castiel.

The brothers curled up together, legs tangling, arms draped over chests and hips. Dean pressed his forehead to Sam's and sighed long and loud. "Why?" he finally asked against the skin of Sam's cheek.

"They offered him back Heaven," Sam answered hollowly. "Hell, after some of the sins he committed, I'm not surprised he jumped ship." He laughed bitterly. "He says goodbye, by the way."

Dean's breathing hitched. "Sam..."

"I'm fine," Sam said automatically. "Working on repressing as we speak. Don't worry."

Dean pressed his fingertips to Sam's chapped lips. "Stop," he demanded quietly. "Talk to me."

Sam's eyes slammed closed lest Dean see the fresh tears his words had sprung up. They hadn't talked since well before Dean went to Hell. "I think..." Sam said, his voice low and hoarse, "I think I might have loved him, Dean."

Heart breaking for his brother, Dean didn't know what to do, or what to say, or if there even was anything to do or say. So Dean did the only thing he knew how to do. He kissed Sam.

Sam's lips were slack under his, they were chapped but warm and familiar. Dean tilted his head and deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue over Sam's bottom lip. Sam's lips parted but he still lay passively under Dean's onslaught. Dean pressed harder, molding their lips together, coaxing Sam's open with his tongue. When Sam still didn't respond, Dean broke away, breathing raggedly. "Respond, damn you," he growled.

Sam gazed at him for a moment, his normally expressive eyes flat and assessing. "Dean?" he whispered. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to," Dean responded. "Because I can." He rubbed his nose on Sam's, slanting his mouth and hovering just over Sam's lips. They breathed each other's air and he let Sam make the decision.

Sam inhaled shallowly through his nose and stared into the familiar green eyes of his brother. There was none of the recrimination he'd been seeing there for so long, none of the mistrust or disgust. Just warm, bright concern, and a deep affection that Sam had seen only in his earliest memories. He took the plunge.

He sealed his lips over Dean's, rolling them over and straddling his brothers hips. "Are you sure?" he asked, carding his fingers through Dean's hair.

"Yeah," Dean said, catching Sam's hands and pulling him closer. "I'm sure."  
Sam kissed him again, sweeping his hands down Dean's chest. He leaned down, pressing them skin to skin. Dean hooked a leg over Sam's hip, rolling them over on their bed. He ground down, sliding their dry cocks together. The friction burned, sending pleasure sparking up Dean's spine. "Dean," Sam gasped, arching his back.

Through the push and grind, Dean grinned. "Shut up and kiss me, Sammy."

So he did, molding his mouth to Dean's, and letting himself go. It didn't take long for either of them to orgasm, and Dean lay against Sam's side, ignoring the sticky residue of their mixed come between them. "Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"I miss him."

Pain is a human condition.

*

"Hey Bobby," Sam could hear Dean say. "Yeah, we're fine." Sam blinked for a moment before everything crashed in on him. He bit back the whimpering scream that wanted to break from him. "Things are–Sammy? You okay?" Dean must have looked over at him. He nodded tightly into the pillow. "I've got to go Bobby, we'll call." He hung up and climbed back into the bed and tugged Sam up into his arms. "Sammy?"

"Yeah Dean," he said, leaning heavily on his brothers shoulder. "I'm okay."

Dean snorted. "Liar."

Sam managed a small smile against the warm skin of Dean's neck. "I'll be okay then," he amended. "Just give me some time."

"Bobby invited us up to his place," Dean murmured. "Because the...... y'know...... everything being hard on us and everything." He winced at the lameness that was spewing forth. "After... the... I almost..." He stopped.

"You almost what?" Sam whispered.

"Said yes," Dean whispered back in the same tone. "After killing uh, the Whore of Babylon.  
Being a servant of God ... I almost said yes." Sam tightened his grip on Dean's waist. "I was going to leave... and I don't know, find someone to say yes to, except that Cas was sick. Then I was going to leave later." He trailed off. "But you were... with him. So I didn't. And now..."

"And now?" Sam repeated, pulling away to look Dean in the eye. "And now? Dean I can't..." He closed his teeth over the words and gave his brother a pleading look.

"Now..." Dean breathed out a long sigh at the end of the word. "Now. I don't know Sam."  
Disappointment and fear welled up in his chest. "No," he gasped out, fearing the words would choke him. "Don't leave me too." He reached out and pulled Dean into his arms again, pressing desperate kisses against Dean's neck. "Please Dean."

He tilted his head to one side, burying his fingers in Sam's hair. "I can't promise you anything," he said quietly. "Not when all the Angels say it's destiny and we'll all end up saying yes anyway."

"Fuck destiny, Dean " Sam pushed him onto the bed and leaned over him, looming impressively. "I will never say yes Not as long as... not as I long as I have you."

"But..."

"Castiel believed in you," Sam whispered harshly. "And so do I."

Dean folded against Sam and sighed heavily. "I will always say no," he finally promised. "If you say no."

Sam stared him down for a long moment, close enough to see himself reflected in Dean's eyes. "Deal," he said harshly and sealed it with a kiss.

*

They were over tired and bleary eyed when they finally made it to Bobby's. It had taken some convincing on Dean's part to get Sam to agree to go, and almost a full day of driving, but they'd made it in record time. Bobby waited on the porch, drumming his fingers on the armrests of the wheelchair.

He took one look at Sam's face and raised an eyebrow at Dean. "What's going on, knuckleheads?"

Dean looked to Sam who shrugged and looked down. Dean obviously took that as permission, and drew in a deep breath. "Cas is gone," he said shortly. "They made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and he went...... back. To Heaven."

Bobby had a feeling he was missing some pretty big pieces of whatever puzzle this was, but the heartbroken look on Sam's face was enough to stop him from asking any big questions. "Get in here," Bobby demanded.

 

"Sorry Bobby," Sam said hoarsely as they passed him on the porch. "Been a long few days."

"Idjit," Bobby said fondly. "Go get a beer."

Once the Winchesters had disappeared into the house, Bobby spun the wheels of his chair around and glared down at the Angel that stood off to one side, just out of sight of the driveway and the front door. "I don't know what game you're playing, but you don't get to play it here. Now scram, before I get the boys painting Enochian protection symbols on this house."

Castiel looked up at Bobby's stern face. "I am sorry, Robert Singer," he said quietly, but the sound carried on the wind. "It was my last wish to cause them harm."

Bobby snorted. "Doesn't look that way to me," he said. "Scram." He wheeled back around and disappeared into the house. Castiel stood there for a long moment afterwards, until he could feel Zachariah's disapproving eyes everywhere and nowhere and he vanished.

Sam was sitting on the couch, staring down at his untouched beer when he could have sworn he heard the sound of flapping wings. Barely taking the time to put the beer down, he raced outside past Bobby and out onto the porch.

No one was there. Suddenly more angry than he'd ever been in his life, Sam whirled and slammed his fist into the side of the house. He stood there, leaning on his injured fist and breathed deeply for a minute. Over the pounding in his head he heard his phone go off.

He pulled it out of his pocket with his left hand and flipped it open. It was from Chuck, and he thought about ignoring it for the next ten years, but something made him open the message. His heart nearly stopped.

Ur rite, the text said, he was there.

*

"How quiet can you be?" Dean asked, low and rough in Sam's ear, one hand pinning his chest and the other snaking down to palm at Sam's covered cock. "Can't wake Bobby, after all."

"Bobby could sleep through an earthquake," Sam growled, thrusting back against Dean's hips.

Dean chuckled, using the hand on Sam's chest to tweak his nipple. "You are not an earthquake," he pointed out. "You could wake the dead."

Sam growled low in his throat and twisted on the bed they laid on together to press himself flush with Dean's chest. Their hips lined up and Dean hummed, arching and rubbing against Sam lightly. "You're no better, Dean," he said, hooking his hands around the back of Dean's neck to pull him in for a kiss. Dean submitted briefly to Sam's bid for dominance but as Sam began to pull away uncertainly, Dean took over the kiss. He plundered Sam's mouth with authority, molding his lips to his brothers. Sam's mouth parted on a gasp, and Dean plunged his tongue between Sam's teeth.

As he did, Sam ceased being the passive observer. They were in this, and they were in this together. He sucked on Dean's tongue, pulling his brother even closer. Dean rolled them over, grinding his hips down into Sam's. "Fuck, Dean," Sam murmured, dragging his mouth away from his brothers and pressing hot, wet kisses to his jaw, and down his throat. He tugged on Dean's shirt and Dean obligingly lifted his arms so that Sam could work it over his head.

Once it was gone, tossed across the room in the vague direction of his duffel, Sam began licking a line down the center of his brothers chest. Dean shifted his hips uncomfortably under Sam's, and fisted his hands into the sheets. "Sam, Jesus, come on."

"Patience," Sam cautioned, roughly. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Dean's ear. "I'll make it worth your while."

Dean shuddered almost comically, his hips canting up into Sam's on a loud groan. He clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Sam blinked, then a slow smile spread across his face. He nuzzled Dean's ear, pressing soft and dry kisses to the lobe and cartilage there. Dean moaned again, the sound muffled by his hand. He nipped at the edge and Dean jerked against him again. "Sam," he said breathlessly. "Sammy, you got-," he cut himself off, fisting both hands back in the sheet.

"I got to what?" Sam asked, amused. He licked along the edge of his brothers right ear, sliding one hand up to brush against the other side. "You have to tell me Dean."

He nipped again and Dean gasped. "You can't do that unless you mean it," he grunted out.

"Oh I mean it, Dean," Sam murmured, low and dark, "trust me." He slid his free hand down Dean's chest, balancing on his knees. He nibbled around the rim of Dean's ear and grabbed at his cock at the same time. Dean seized up, turning his head into the pillow in a failed attempt to muffle his loud groan of appreciation.

He kept up the slow rub of his lips against Dean's ear, and the quick thrusts of his hand for some time, bringing Dean closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, Sam," Dean groaned, canting his hips up into the tight circle of Sam's fingers.

"What do you want?" he asked against Dean's ear. "Do you want to come like this?" He punctuated his question with a sharp bite to Dean's earlobe.

"Fuck," Dean gasped. "N-No." He arched up into Sam's grip again. "Fuck me."

Sam's mouth went dry, and he pulled away to look Dean full in the face. Dean's pupils were blown, barely any of the green left, his eyes wide. "You want me to... are you... " He cleared his throat. "Dean?"

"Yeah," he said.

Over the years there had been many things the Winchester boys had never talked about. Their mother's death, Sam's leaving for Stanford, John's death, Bobby's loss of his legs, and possibly the way they felt for each other. They had routinely sacrificed themselves to save the other, given up more than was natural to make the other happy. Dean lost his entire childhood to taking care of Sam.

It was Sam's turn now.

"Dean?" he asked again, voice trembling.

Dean smiled, the expression slightly lopsided. "Do it, Sam." His eyes softened and he reached up to tangle his fingers in Sam's sweat knotted hair. "I trust you."

Lust swamped him, and Sam pulled Dean up to kiss him again, pressing their mouths together in a wet, hot crush. "Dean," he murmured against his brothers lips. The lube was in their duffel and Sam pulled away to get it, a pang striking his chest when he remembered what they'd last used it for.

"Sam," Dean said. "It's..." he trailed off, and gave him a reassuring smile instead.

Choking back tears, which he considered relatively unsexy during sex, Sam busied himself with the tube. He nudged Dean's knee and his brothers legs fell open easily. Sam's mouth went dry again, and sadness momentarily forgotten, Sam slicked up the crack of Dean's ass with one finger.

Dean moaned and thrashed on the bed. Sam grinned, doing it again, and Dean arched up. "Fuck Sam, just fucking do it already."

Coating two fingers, Sam ran the pads around the rim listening to Dean's low moans. Sam dipped one finger inside of him, twisting his wrist this way and that, coating the very entrance of Dean's body as well as he was able. "Sam, damn it," grunted Dean, bumping his hips towards Sam's hand.

He couldn't help the small chuckle, grinning unrepentantly when Dean turned his head to glare at him. "Sorry," he said insincerely, and sunk one finger all the way to the second knuckle into his brother. Dean hissed loudly through his teeth, his hips making an aborted thrust in his direction. Sam leaned down and kissed him thoroughly, turning his finger up and pressing against Dean's prostate. It was probably a good thing he was kissing Dean, because the noise he might have made otherwise definitely would have woken Bobby.

Using the pleasure from his previous touch, Sam slid in a second finger, scissoring them in increasing increments, as Dean moved restlessly under him. "Fuck, Sam, come on "

"I don't want to hurt you," Sam said, working his two fingers in slowly.

"You won't," Dean insisted, looking desperate. His cock was red, full to bursting and pressed flat against his belly. Every time Sam moved his fingers, Dean's dick would twitch violently to one side and Sam wrapped his free hand around it. "Fuck, no, Sam, too close " Dean's back was arching with each small stroke, digging his heels into the mattress for more leverage.

Sam's mouth dropped open and he was reaching for the lube before he could change his mind - before Dean could change his mind. They lived in and out of each others pockets for most of their lives. They shared clothes, they shared towels and space and it stopped being surprising when one would walk in on the other. Trust like that... it came from years of devotion.

So he slicked up his dick and rubbed the head against Dean's ass, leaning forward to kiss him again. He was surprised when Dean reached down and took his cock in his too hot hand, lining up Sam's dick with his ass. He let Dean lead them, going loose and pliant in his brothers grip.

When his cock finally slid in, even a little, he thought of Castiel. Dean must have seen it on his face, arching up and letting him bottom out, sliding home. Sam's breath burst out of him in a sharp noise, and Dean leaned up on his elbows to press their foreheads together. "Do you think he can hear us?" Dean asked softly, not moving.

"I hope so." Then words were lost as Sam began to thrust, fucking into Dean's willing body. He pressed their lips together, swallowing the others moans and Sam lifted one of Dean's legs to change the angle.

"Fuck S-Sam," hissed Dean against his shoulder, biting down hard on his collarbone.  
For a second, Sam's hips lost rhythm and he nipped Dean's ear in retribution. The bed was squeaking and Dean forgot for a minute why they had to be quiet. He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to Sam's, as his orgasm built around him.   
It started at the base of his spine, slicking up his back and coiling down into his hips. "Sam," groaned Dean around his brothers tongue and came.

Dean's cock spurting hot between them surprised Sam into his own orgasm, pressing their bodies together tightly and kissing Dean hotly. When he rolled off Dean, his brother pulled him close, wrapping one arm around his hip and clasping Sam's hand. Sam spared one last thought for Castiel, before surrendering to sleep. "Love you, bitch," Dean murmured into his ear.

"Love you too, jerk."

It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

 

*

 

Castiel pressed one hand to the window of Bobby's second floor bedroom, crouching on the roof alone in the dark. He had responded to Sam's call even without meaning to, appearing just outside long enough to listen to their muted sounds of passion. He'd done his duty, he'd kept Dean from saying yes, and kept Sam safe.

Zachariah was none too pleased with him, he had been one of Michael's biggest advocates, and Destiny was probably just as annoyed. But they were safe now, his Winchester boys, and the end was not quite so near.

He was already thinking of ways to find out how to kill the Devil and how to plant that information for them to find when he felt a presence behind him. He half turned and blinked in shock at the person standing there. "Brother," he said, confused. "What are you...?"

Gabriel smiled, his lips tilting up in his standard smug smirk. "Castiel," he said, almost warmly. "Have you been banned from the bedroom?" His smile turned vaguely mocking and Castiel looked away. "You have." Gabriel seemed surprised and he stepped up to look in the window.

"I was given back my Grace in return for leaving them behind," Castiel murmured into the cool night air. "I am still, at this point, wondering if I made the right decision."

Gabriel watched him for a long minute, noticing the hand print on the glass. The brothers would likely never see it, it glowed with Angel power and they weren't refined enough to see like that. But it was there, and if Castiel was leaking that much...

Touching his tongue to his top lip, Gabriel thought about it for a minute. "You know..." he said, "I could put you back there."

Castiel turned. "You could what?"

"I could put you back there, when it all began. You wouldn't remember this, of course, and it's very likely that you'd end up back here anyway, but it would allow you to feel it all again." Gabriel held out a hand. "Just take it."

He regarded hand proffered hand with some mistrust. "Why would you do that?"

Gabriel smiled. "I dealt those boys a bad hand and they let me go. I owe them. Now I don't." He thrust the hand closer to Castiel. "Take it."  
He took it. With the sound of ripping fabric, Castiel was gone, a few feathers floating down to rest on the roof. Gabriel blew on the them and they whisked off on some unseen air current. "You shouldn't have done that," Zachariah said.

Gabriel didn't turn. "You have a lot of nerve, brother," he growled. "What are you the Angel of again? Because right now it seems like you're the Angel of the Heart Broken."

Zachariah took an involuntary step back. "What are you talking about?" he asked bitingly.

"He's done this six separate times, you stupid bastard " Gabriel roared, full force Angel and Pagan God in one. "He has always chosen Grace over the Winchesters and always regrets the decision "

Age lined the planes of Zachariah's borrowed body. "I am following my orders," he said quietly.

Gabriel sneered. "You've spent too many years in Heaven, my brother. You've forgotten how to feel like a human."

He shook his head. "No," Zachariah said. "I've never felt like a human."

"Then I am very sad for you," Gabriel growled, sarcastic and hurt, and petty and all manner of other emotions in between.

"Keep playing your part, Gabriel. And I'll keep playing mine." With that, Zachariah was gone, the sound of flapping wings echoing too loudly in the stillness of the air. It wasn't over. It never would be.

Love is a human emotion.

*End


End file.
